


You Got It (The Right Stuff)

by DovahDoes



Series: A Little Amenadan AU [6]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Both the Amenadan and the Lindakeen/Mazikinda are established, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Lucifer and Amenadiel's dad being a jerk, M/M, Oops, Pudding, Supernatural Elements, Wings, also like usual, anyway, comme d'habitude, i know. for writing so much about dan i have never actually mentioned/featured pudding until now, or more like Amenadiel angsting quietly to himself for a bit, their mother being intrusive, very brief spot of near-smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 04:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovahDoes/pseuds/DovahDoes
Summary: Placid, ageless azure eyes meet his own for the first time in several long minutes.“…and, well, to make a long story into a pointed, dramatic statement, that’s because, Dan:you’re not human.  Or at least, not completely.”Both men stare at the woman seated before them in disbelief, one snapping out of it far sooner than the other.“Oh, bullshit, Mother.”  Amenadiel drawls, scowling...*  *  *Amenadiel's wings go a bit wonky again, and after failing to convince his dad to fix them, hismothergoes up to have a chat with him as well.  She's successful, thankfully, but it turns out she has some pretty important information forDanwhen she comes back.





	You Got It (The Right Stuff)

**Author's Note:**

> (Wonder if I'll ever run out of 80s songs to use as fic titles...)  
> *
> 
> Anyhoot, this takes place not all too long after the other fic I just posted, [You Shook Me All Night Long](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404793).

 

For the general populace, the start of spring is typically a time to be enjoyed; warm weather, blooming plants, and droves of tiny, newborn animals tend to lure even the most stalwart homebody out of doors.  And for a few blissful days, it had been just so with Detective Daniel Espinoza and Amenadiel, his boyfriend of several months.

 

They’d gone out on several scenic morning runs together in local parks, had unintentionally begun keeping tabs on the small family of birds nesting in the old tree outside of Dan’s apartment building, and had even taken Trixie out on a few joint outings to take advantage of the sublime weather.

 

All in all, spring had sprung in all its resplendent glory for the two men.

 

Or so it had seemed until about one month into the season, as that had been when Amenadiel’s ‘power problems’ began again.  Much like before he’d become intimate with Daniel, his Grace was fluctuating wildly, and starting to wane with each passing day.

 

The distraught angel spent several days feeling downtrodden before getting the idea to fly up to the Silver City and simply talk to his dad about maybe fixing his sudden, inexplicable health problems.  Instead, he's kicked out and returned to his lover’s living room without warning, before even getting an answer from anyone about exactly _why_ his wings are falling apart again.

 

When he haphazardly touches down (and really, it’s more of a crash-landing), he’s left half-on the couch and clutching at any furniture nearby to orient himself.  Within a few moments, he regains his faculties and climbs the rest of the way up onto the full-length settee.

 

Dan, who’s gotten more than used to an angel popping in and out at their leisure hardly bats an eye at this, instead opting to eat the last two or so bites of his vanilla-chocolate swirl pudding before putting the spoon and small bowl down on the coffee table.

 

“So,” he says, evenly.  “No luck on the ‘getting your wings back’ front, huh?”

 

For his troubles and attempt at levity, he receives a Look from the older man.

 

“No.  No luck.  Could you call my mother for me, please?  I hesitate to milk my pitiable state and situation, but if _anyone_ can bring my father to heel and get some clear responses out of him, it’s her.   _Especially_ if I play up the sad eyes when I ask."

 

*

 

It’s three long days of radio silence from Amenadiel’s mother before they get any sort of an answer to their plight.  The two are sitting on the loveseat in the small living room in the angel’s home relaxing while watching an old, cheesy kung fu movie.  (His ailing lover is still in a bit of a funk and ends up latching onto the over-acted, inaccurately dubbed action film as an easy way to get out of his head for a while.)  It also doesn’t seem to hurt that Dan has chosen to spend most of his day off in his company in an effort to hopefully brighten his spirits a bit.

 

In a bid to get more comfortable, the off-duty detective wiggles around ever so slightly in order to tuck his foot into the crook of the other leg’s knee, splaying one bent leg out over unused couch space.  Hardly two minutes later, an increasingly bright light from Amenadiel’s phone distracts him from the movie, though, and he cuts his eyes to the side to see exactly _what_ necessitates the phone be at an ungodly 100% brightness, only to pull up short.

 

It’s not a phone screen emitting a glow: _it’s his boyfriend_.  Which must mean that according to past experience, the next thing to likely happen is that-

 

“My wings!” Amenadiel exclaims, fully splaying the suddenly-present appendages with a _whoompf_  of air.  “They’re whole again!”

 

His beatific smile is contagious, and Dan can’t help but to be swept up in the joyful excitement and relief.

 

“That’s amazing, Babe!” he says, sitting slightly leaned forward in order to leave space for the gigantic wing now half-covering the seat’s back.  “Do we know _why_ they’re undamaged, again?”

 

The glow has mostly faded at this point, luckily for the mortal member of the couple’s eyes.  Then, finally seeming to come down from what must have been one hell of an endorphin rush, which can be par for the course with divine healing, Amenadiel turns back to the younger man and directs a bright-eyed, mischievous look his way.

 

“Mmno, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  I’m feeling more energetic than I have in quite some time, so if you’re obliging, I’d like to… _expend_ some of that energy.”

 

Dan feels the tips of his ears go hot and arousal start to simmer in his veins as he rakes his eyes down the always impressive body that is moving closer to his relaxed form.  Grabbing the strings of his lover’s hoodie, he pulls the angel forward while turning himself to rest his legs lengthways across the small couch.  Eyes half-lidded, he licks his lips, watching as macassar-hued eyes dip down to hungrily watch his mouth.

 

“Huh.  So, you really want to ‘expend some energy’ right here?  This loveseat’s a bit small for both of us.”

 

Amenadiel also adjusts his position, eventually looming over his willingly ‘trapped’ boyfriend, who slightly raises his bent legs to bracket the seraph’s larger form.

 

“Maybe we should move to the bigger couch, then, or the bedroom, hm?”

 

That particular course of action seems unlikely, what with the way that Dan both wraps his outside leg around the other man’s lower back and draws his body down to brush their lips together in a series of brief, hot kisses.  Heady, lust-fueled heat swirls at every point of contact between them, from peaked nipples down to tensed, straining thighs.

 

“Mm, I’d suggest the bedroom, if anything, since _I’m_ currently making use of the larger couch: I’m calling ‘dibs’, as Lucifer has taught me to do.”

 

The two men spring apart like they’ve been suddenly doused in cold water at the nearby sound of a familiar voice.

 

“Charlotte!”  Dan gasps, hand reaching down to grasp a gun he currently doesn’t have on his body, encountering the soft fabric of his pajama pants, instead.

 

His significant other is a bit more verbose and composed in his response, irately putting his clothing back to sorts before glaring at the woman blinking innocently back at them.

 

“ _Damnit_ , Mother!  What have I told you about just entering rooms without warning anyone in them?”

 

She looks at him blithely before furrowing her brows in apparent confusion.

 

“Well, _not to_ , I suppose.   Why are the both of you so upset, anyway?  From what I heard about your first night as a couple, having an audience should pose no problem— not that I desire to bear witness to your, ah, _activities_.  And it’s not as though I even _had_ a choice of where I’d end up, anyway, just now.”

 

Dan wipes a hand over his face, exasperatedly, and Amenadiel sighs long-sufferingly.

 

“Mom, _please_.  Is there a reason for this visit, or…?”

 

“Your father always was one for the dramatic, dear.  You know that, of course?  Well, it looks like he had another ‘old testament’ tantrum and pointed a lot of his ire at you, for whatever reason.

 

“So I stayed and we talked about it for a while.  You know, that psychologist woman has quite a bit of fairly helpful advice, and I relayed some of it to your father.  It took a lot of arguing—and apologies for those monsoons and volcanic eruptions that were all over the news—those were _before_ we worked on taking responsibility for past actions, and he’s incredibly stubborn about not being ‘perfect’.”

 

“O…kay?”  Amenadiel says, not quite sure of where all of this is going.  “And that has _what_ to do with my recent, sudden degradation of Grace?”

 

(Dan is _also_ interested in the connection.  He is perhaps _almost_ as interested in the fact that, in a roundabout way, Dr. Linda Martin had _given_ _God_ _advice_. Just… _wow_.  He tunes back in when Charlotte sits forward a bit in her seat and gives her eldest a serious look.)

 

“I know it seems unlikely, but your father seems genuinely contrite about his recent behavior—both toward you _and_ your brother.  He said he actually _regrets_ punishing you for his _own_ hang-ups over the way you choose to live your life.  In fact, he’s asked to talk to each of you, if you’re alright with that.  There was even talk of him coming down _here_ , if it’s preferable.”

 

The room’s lone mortal is somewhat aware of the fact that his mouth is hanging open ever-so-slightly, but it’s really not that odd, he figures.  How else would a regular person react to the Mother of Angels casually mentioning the possibility of an actual deity just ‘visiting’ Earth to shoot the breeze with two of his estranged kids.

 

It’s _mind-boggling_.

 

When he pulls himself together a little bit more and catches sight of Amenadiel’s face, he can see that the somewhat surly twist that has been present on the man’s brow for nearly a week is significantly lighter.  Feeling his stomach twist in sympathy— God knows how _he’d_ feel if _his_ shit father ever became self-aware and compassionate enough to try and make amends for his past actions— Dan tugs his lover closer by the pocket of his hoodie, knowing that contact is often a cure-all for the angel.

 

As usual, the other man is nothing if not accommodating, absently moving closer so that they are again tucked in close to one another on the loveseat.  A warm arm drapes over his shoulder and half-rests on the cushioned arm of the couch, releasing a bit of tension Dan had unknowingly been carrying while they’d been sat apart.

 

Charlotte watches all of this with what almost looks to be a warm look in her eye, not even pausing while they rearrange themselves.

 

“Your father really has a lot of work to do with a number of your siblings, too, if what Azrael said is true.  It’s like his sense went on vacation after your brother’s rebellion.  And _oh_ —,” she says to herself, snapping her fingers as though recalling something important.  “Don’t let me forget to speak to Lucifer… and perhaps his little detective companion, too: there’s something pretty important they’re going to want to know.

 

“ _Anyway_ , once your father got over the fact that your, uh, _partner_ and I had _also_ slept together— and _boy_ was _that_ part of the conversation a doozy— he relented and actually managed to spit out exactly _what_ the ‘problem’ is with Daniel.  You all have probably figured that he seems pretty much alright with _Chloe_ and Lucifer’s likely inevitable relationship, so it certainly can’t be the human-slash-mortal thing, right?  Right.”

 

Placid, ageless azure eyes meet his own for the first time in several long minutes.

 

“…and, well, to make a long story into a pointed, dramatic statement, that’s because, Dan: _you’re not human._   Or at least, not completely.”

 

Both men stare at the woman seated before them in disbelief, one snapping out of it far sooner than the other.

 

“Oh, bull _shit,_ Mother.”  Amenadiel drawls, scowling, even as he reassuringly tightens the arm around his lover’s shoulders, not needing to look at the man to know that he must be feeling pretty spooked at the outrageous pronouncement.

 

The goddess, however, seems to almost ignore his statement— something Lucifer is prone to doing, too— staring into the middle distance and muttering “And _wait_ until we get to Detective _Decker_...”

 

She seems to snap back to the present, though, and switches her gaze back to the youngest among them, crystal blue eyes focusing on his slightly widened ones intensely.

 

“Listen, I know our history is… _complicated_ , to say the least, but, please— I can _prove_ it to y—Amenadiel!  Put away your wings!  I’m not going to _jump_ him or any such thing!”

 

With a surly grunt, the eldest of the heavenly host rolls his shoulders and puts his wings away with a dubious sense of trust in his mother that is almost solely born of the harrowing, past several months spent in her company.

 

“Fine,” he utters darkly, still feeling more than a bit sore at _both_ of his parents, if he was honest with himself.  “Do you— is this something you’re willing to learn more about, Love?”

 

The sleep-rumpled LAPD detective whooshes out a lengthy sigh and finally starts to relax, again, slumping back against Amenadiel and resting easily against his side, eventually running a hand down over his face.

 

“I, uh,” he starts, inelegantly, tilting his head slightly and glancing to his side to seek out reassuring dark eyes.  “Yeah.  Just— why not, right?  I’m definitely not going to get any info from _my_ folks, so why not see what one of yours has to say.”

 

The young father again looks at the determined woman before them and wearily nods, noting that her face has brightened, somewhat, with a relieved edge showing in her expression.

 

“Excellent!  Alright, Son,” she says, meeting Amenadiel’s gaze.  “Where’s that bestiary and the books you keep on angels and celestial peoples?  This might take a few minutes to piece together into an explanation, otherwise.”

 

Dan lightly frowns as his lover shifts away and begins to get up, huffing quietly as the other man presses a sweet kiss against his temple and then smoothly gets to his feet to retrieve the requested materials.

 

Why does all the weird shit _always_ have to happen on his days off from work?  _So_ unfair.

 

*

 

It’s 3 AM on a Thursday morning when Linda Martin is woken up from what must have been a particularly deep sleep, if her intense grogginess and general disorientation is anything to go by.  The cause for her being awake at the unseemly hour soon reveals itself when she hears her bedmate giggle loudly before apparently ending a phone call with someone and smoothly climbing back into bed.

 

“M’ze?” she slurs, turning over onto her opposite side under the lush, heavy duvet and peering into the moonlit, bedroom made blurry without the use of glasses or contact lenses.  The weight at the far edge of the king size bed fluidly moves closer before hot, weapon-calloused hands draw her closer to the warm body now occupying the center of the mattress.

 

Yawning deeply, but valiantly staying above the wave of sleepiness threatening to subsume her grasp on consciousness, the elder of the two runs a hand down the other woman’s outside arm before lightly tugging until the demon also turns onto her side, leaving them curled in towards one another with joined hands and legs half tangled together.

 

“Who w’s on th’ phone?  S'evr’ything ‘kay?” the half-conscious therapist asks, worried.

 

Her lover, always quick to eliminate as many perceived sources of distress and unhappiness from Linda’s life, immediately inches forward to lightly press their lips together.

 

“Uh-huh— nothing to worry about, Doc,” she whispers.  “Just a weird update from our little, buttoned-up Detective Espinosa.”

 

Passing the halfway mark on the way to slumber, but still interested, the most she can manage in response is an inquisitive sound.

 

“Yeah.  He’s descended from come crazy ex of Amenadiel and Lucifer’s dad—not related to any of _them_ , though, thankfully.  Closest thing they could compare it to is like some sort of reverse vampire-incubus thing that messes with supernatural power sources by way of intimacy… which is hilarious for a guy who, up until _very_ recently was getting precisely _zero_ action and has _no_ game whatsoever.”

 

Snickering a bit loopily, Maze takes notice of the fact that she’s very likely been talking to herself for the better half of the last thirty seconds, as her girlfriend has gone back to her usual middle-of-the-night, quiet half-snores.

 

“Aaand I guess we’ll pick this back up tomorrow morning, then,” she says, sotto voce, before muffling a jaw-cracking yawn that has a strongly soporific effect.

 

“G’night, Lin…” she murmurs, blearily, shuffling down under soft sheets and settling in for some much-needed sleep alongside her significant other. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes. Yes I did let Maze do my expositing for me. Haha. Originally, this fic ended on a 'cliffhanger' of sorts, cutting off after the Amenadiel and Dan scene without _actually_ giving any details about what Charlotte tells them. But I was conflicted about leaving it that way, so think of the Linda/Maze part as a post-credits scene, of sorts.
> 
> (Aaaaand yeah. If you're wondering how Charlotte got up to heaven, I'm imagining Azrael lent a helping hand. Cuz she's in it for the Drama and to watch her dad get a sorely deserved verbal smackdown.
> 
> I'll also elaborate more on what's up with both Dan _and_ Chloe [ _and_ Trixie] in later works. I hope. haha)  
> *
> 
> Come check out [my writing blog](https://dovahdoeswrite.tumblr.com/), where I post early fic snippets and keep you updated on what i'm working on in what fandoms!
> 
>    
> Kudos and comments are love: feel free to leave me some, kind readers~. (ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥


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